In Memory of...My Sister, Gail

Twelve Years ago today - in the evening hours, Gail passed away.  She was 47 years old.  She left behind her husband, John; mother, Mary; two sisters, Jan & Barb, many nieces & nephews and friends.

GONE TOO SOONGail and I always celebrated our Birthdays together.  Hers was October 12, 1952.  I was the first-born child in our family and I was born on October 8th, 1949.  We were 3 years and 4 days apart, so it was convenient to have our Birthday... celebrations on the same day.  We celebrated 47 birthdays together and then she was gone. 
For many, many years, Gail had been treated for Fibromyalgia - all the symptoms she had didn't all fit any other category, so the Doctors decided that was what she had.  She dieted, watched what she ate and didn't touch desserts.  Sometimes she looked like she starved herself.  I encouraged her to eat...and she just wrinkled her nose the way she always did and that was that.
By mid-March of 2000, some of the symptoms she had previously were getting worse, so the Doctors decided more tests should be scheduled.   A week or so later, near the end of March, she called me to say that the Doctors - in one of the tests - had found a mass.  That's all she said, well, other than she had to have some other things done and then have surgery, which was scheduled for about 10 days later - sometime before the 15th of April.  She never wanted to know more than she needed to know, so she didn't ask the doctors many questions.  And she and her husband didn't want to talk about it with anyone either.  

(beginning clockwise with the upper left photo is Gail &her husband, John; Gail & Me; Gail, holding her nephew, Bradley; Gail & John; Gail)

The surgery day arrived and I was at the hospital with other family members.  By then, we knew that the mass was in her colon and it could be a polyp, a tumor and it could be benign or cancerous.  The Doctor had given us a time frame of about 3-4 hours for surgery and recovery before Gail would be back in her room.  We would be updated if timing changed.  While everyone else went for breakfast and coffee, I remained behind...thinking I might be needed earlier than what the Doctor had planned.  And, I was glad I did.  Because, less than an hour and a half later, Gail was wheeled back into her room and I was the only one there.  I was speaking to the nurse outside her room, when Gail started calling "Mommy"!...so I told the nurse to call the others and I went into the room to see if I could help my sister.
Gail was all doped up and kind of drifted in and out and was pulling up her gown, to see what they did to her.  I don't think she even realized what she was doing.  When she did, I saw a huge long incision (much different than what the Doctor had told us to expect), all bandaged up.  After working as a Nurse's Aide for several years, I knew the quickness of the surgery, the much longer incision and everything else wasn't a good sign, but I didn't have long to think about it as everyone showed up a few minutes later.  They were all in joyous mood that Gail was OK and back in her room all done having surgery.  I stepped back outside the room with the nurse when she left after doing her quick "check" on Gail.
I just came out and said what I was thinking and telling her how I knew it wasn't good.  I was certain they had found more "mass" than they figured and had just biopsied it and closed her back up.  She just patted me on the shoulder and hung her head and there were tears welling in her eyes.  I knew.I learned that the cancer indeed was very invasive, beginning in her colon and had spread to her liver and other areas of her body, as well.
Gail never went for further surgery, as a matter of fact, before she had even recuperated from the surgery, while she was still in the hospital, I began to notice that the whites of her eyes were turning yellow.  I asked the nurse about it saying that I again figured the cancer had gotten to her liver...and the nurse said that jaundice is often something people with serious cancer that has spread have.  Gail was in the hospital 9 days.When she left the hospital, she was in alot of pain and found it difficult to sit upright or to lay down on a bed. I went out to the LaZ-Boy store and bought her a recliner.  She was so pleased that within an hour after getting home, I arrived with the recliner and 2 guys that could carry it up to her place.  Gail had less than 2 glorious months sleeping and sitting in that recliner in front of her huge living room window.
Then in early June, she went to Hospice.
She spent less than 30 days there.
She was made comfortable and we could visit any time we wanted, day or night.  That was good, because I worked retail sales, sometimes 9am-9pm, 6 days a week.
On June 30th, I had already - a month or more in advance - made plans to move.  The relationship I was in for 2 years had disintegrated and I found myself a new apartment.  Early in the morning, I stopped at the Hospice and sat with my sister.  I massaged her favorite hand cream into her hands.  I applied her body lotion to her arms and legs.  Though she was in a coma, I knew she could hear me and she would know what I was doing...I just knew it.  I sang to her...some of the songs we sang together as teenagers.  I told her it was my moving day AGAIN.  Again?  Yes, again.  It was probably Move #35 or something like that and as her typical self, that nose of hers wiggled like she was always known to do.  I told you I knew she could hear me.  Then I said the hardest thing I've ever said, "I know you're tired and if you have to go before I come back to see you again, it's OK.  I understand.  We'll all be OK."  Then I kissed her and hugged her and walked out of her room.  I said good-bye to the nurses on my way out and told them I didn't think I'd see Gail alive again.  We all hugged.  I left.  
Then, as I was bringing the last box into my new apartment, the phone rang.  It was my youngest sister calling to tell me Gail had died.  The guys and my ex, who helped me move left.  And I just sat in the darkness of my new apartment til I fell asleep.
That night I had a dream of Gail walking in the park on the corner, across from my apartment.  I was with her and she was walking without pain, her face full of color, laughing and talking with me.  (I have no idea what she said, I just knew she was talking.)  She did tell me how good she felt and how happy she was to be pain-free.  We got to the pond, where I had to turn to go back home - she went the other way, waving at me.  When I woke up, I honestly could smell her perfume...something she hadn't worn since before she went to have her surgery.
I know she's in a better place - feeling good - being happy and no longer in pain.But, even 12 years later, I miss her.  ♥